


Knight

by Scriptor_Bellum



Category: Deltarune (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Female Reader, Hurt/Comfort, King Bastard is trying to kill her not thrill her, ROUXLS AND LANCER SAVE THE READER FROM KING BASTARD, Reader Is Not Kris (Deltarune), Reader-Insert, Strangulation, Violence, anyway the strangulation tag is not the fun kind, human reader, that's it that's the whole fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23058583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scriptor_Bellum/pseuds/Scriptor_Bellum
Summary: You’ve been here for so long, it seems as though everyone considers you some kind of permanent fixture. It feels like you’re settled in, a part of the castle with a place among its ranks, like you’rewelcomehere.The hand around your neck proves you very, very wrong.
Relationships: Rouxls Kaard/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 60





	Knight

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo guess I'm back into Undertale and Deltarune? HECK!
> 
> Anyway this was something that was in my head all yesterday and wouldn't leave me alone till I did something with it!! Been a while since I've written nearly 1000 words in one go, haha XD
> 
> Welp, all that's left to say is I LOVE ROUXLS KAARD soooo enjoy!! <3

You thought you couldn’t get find any trouble taking a walk down the castle halls.

In a way, you were right. You don’t find trouble.

As apparently always is the case, trouble finds you.

You’ve been here for so long, it seems as though everyone considers you some kind of permanent fixture. It feels like you’re settled in, a part of the castle with a place among its ranks, like you’re _welcome_ here.

The hand around your neck proves you very, very wrong.

It’s like breathing through a straw; only a small bit of air can get in or out. It produces a hideous wheezing that fills the hallway as a melody of your suffering. Within about a minute, the edges of your vision turn fuzzy black.

Up till now, the King has only been growling at you, not saying anything. Now he’s grinding out hateful words that you can’t quite make out ― vitriolic insults about Lightners, wrathful abuse that spells out just how badly he wants you **DEAD**.

And it appears he’s going to get his wish. He’s holding you at least a foot off the ground, your feet dangling, kicking helplessly as his fingers tighten and threaten to crush your throat entirely. For a long time he seemed, to you, like a ghost… showing up only once in a while, for fleeting moments, vanishing as quickly as he had come. Most days he is only a shadow in his own castle.

But now, in this moment, it has become clear to you that he is no shadow nor ghost. He is a demon, powerful enough to end your life, just biding his time for a chance to drain the existence from you. No one speaks about him because they don’t need to. Everyone else knows what he’s capable of.

You would have been fine not discovering it firsthand.

Your fingers reach up as you become frantic. His hand has closed off the last scraps of air you were getting, and now you’re in dire straits. You claw at him, trying desperately to release his grip. If you can just find one little foothold to slip your fingers in and pry him off of you, maybe you can get out of this.

He’s not actually going to kill you, is he? Surely this is just a display of strength and determination, a warning to ensure you know not to cross him?

The black static starts to eat from the edges of your vision into the middle.

If you weren’t being held up, you would be limp.

_Oh, my God, I’m going to die._

“Hey, Dad… DAD, WHAT ARE YOU **DOING?!** Let her go, _let her go_ _―_ _!_ ”

“Sire! S-sire, please, thou art hurtesting her!!”

Just as the black starts to fade into a featureless, dizzy white, suddenly the pressure of the King’s hand is gone.

You fall to the floor, slumping into a heap. Your whole arm shakes as you try to push yourself up, and you gasp in lungfuls of air. It almost chokes you now that you can breathe again.

Someone gathers you into his arms and against his chest. Before even looking or hearing his voice, you know it’s Rouxls just by the way his touch feels. He’s so gentle with you. He’s trembling too, and when you glance at his face, you know it’s not the same reason you are. He’s shaking out of fear, worry, _anger._ You have never seen him with such a storm in his eyes.

“Dearest? Th… thou art… art thou…” His fingers run through your hair, softly, comforting, a stark contrast to the tempestuous expression he’s wearing. A quiet breath leaves him that you can feel against your cheek; cool and soothing. His voice changes, dropping his usual manner of speech. “You are okay. You are okay, my love. (Name) is fine.”

That’s something you don’t hear often ― the switch that happens when he’s setting rules. You don’t know why he would waste that power when he’s already rescued you. Were you really that close to death that he thought getting the King’s hand away would be enough?

You can hear Lancer shouting and crying. You look up, and the King has disappeared, leaving his son staring at you with the most frightened face you’ve ever seen on a child. Thanks to Rouxls, your strength is coming back to you. So you raise a hand, fingers weakly curling in a plain attempt to beckon the prince over. “Lancer, Lancer, honey. It’s okay. I’m… I’m alright…”

Stunningly enough, Rouxls makes room for Lancer even before he comes racing over to you. The impact of his little body nearly knocks the wind out of you again, but this time you don’t mind so much. “(Name)! (Name), I’m so sorry!!”

“Shhhh, shh. Everything’s fine now.” Your arms make their way around Lancer, and in turn, Rouxls’ arms tighten around the both of you. You feel the puzzlemaster’s lips bearing down against your head, over and over, kissing you as though he’s terrified that he could lose you any moment. “Everything’s okay, sweetheart. And this isn’t your fault.”

You close your eyes and let yourself melt into your lover as your adopted child buries himself against you. “Look at this,” you breathe, “I’ve got a prince and a knight to save me.”

Rouxls’ chest rumbles with a chuckle, though the look in his eyes when you tilt your head up doesn’t match the sentiment. “A knight, hm?”

As soon as he lowers his head even the slightest bit, you push yourself up to kiss his cheek. “In shining armor.”


End file.
